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Chokae', Ubud (2026)

06/03/2026

I doodle. I sketch. I paint with Oils, Acrylics, Sumi Ink. I do Pysanky (Ukrainian egg magic, look it up). I paint full-scale murals at Burning Man in the desert wind while strangers hand me warm beer, snacks, and random gifts.

I do all of this with gleeful, chaotic joy.
And yet…
Watercolor.
Lordt!

For YEARS I have side-eyed that particular demon from across the art supply store. Because watercolor doesn’t care about your plans or your feelings. It blooms where it wants, bleeds when you blink…
Watercolor is - and I say this with full respect - unhinged.

Every other medium lets you fix your mistakes. Watercolor just laughs and makes them part of the painting. It is irreversible. Immediate. Alive. Like texting your ex… there is no taking it back.

So of course, during my last Full Blood Moon ritual, when I suggested that everyone explore an art form or medium that they actively avoid, I asked myself what artistic fear I needed to walk toward…
my soul said watercolor.
Of course it did.
Damnit!

So here we are. A humble pad of paper. A tiny palette. Hanuman watching over the whole ridiculous endeavor… which feels right, because Lord Hanuman leapt across an entire ocean on faith alone, and that is approximately the energy required.

I don’t know what I’m doing yet. That’s the point.
Pick the medium that scares you. The one you’ve been walking past. Sit down with it. Make something ugly and wonderful and yours.

Better out than in, as they say.

Especially now.

Love,
Papawitch

05/03/2026

So, you’ve noticed some small shifts. Also some stumbles. Reaching for the old pattern. Making choices you wish you could take back. Good. That’s exactly how this works.

The work is repetition, messy and imperfect. Showing up happens. Choosing differently when possible. Stumbling when that’s what happens. Getting back up and choosing again tomorrow.

Consistency beats perfection every single time. Your nervous system learns through repetition, through the cumulative weight of choosing differently more often than choosing the old way.

One perfect day means nothing. Ten messy days where showing up kept happening anyway? That rewires everything.
New neural pathways get built through volume, through doing it again and again even when it feels clumsy, even when mistakes happen, even when exhaustion makes quitting look appealing.

The stumbles are part of the process. Every time choosing happens again after a mess-up, your body learns something crucial: failure is temporary, choosing is always available.

Today: Write down one moment of stumbling and one moment of choosing differently. Both matter. Both are evidence of being in the work.
Keep showing up. Messy counts.

Love,
Papawitch

05/03/2026

Sometimes you got to bring out the big guns.
You know the feeling. Something stirs low in the gut, a pull, a knowing. The air gets thick with it. That’s your signal. Answer it.

Go all in. Let the wicks mingle with each other, layer the herbs and let them a mass of wick, let the paper catch and curl with every word you wrote down and meant.

Watch the wax pool and spill over the edges; that’s abundance, that’s commitment, that’s you saying I am serious about this. Fire and earth and air all moving together, doing what they do when you stop holding back.

Every element shows up fully. So do you.
There are moments in this work, in all work that keeps you sane and grounded… where a little is good and a lot is better. Where the ordinary effort is fine, but your bones are telling you to kick it up more than a notch. Listen to that. Trust it. Throw the whole thing into the flame and mean it.

Your equilibrium is worth the good wax. It’s worth the good herbs. It’s worth every last scrap of intention you’ve got on hand.

When the feeling comes, don’t talk yourself out of it. Go there. All the way there.

Love,
Papawitch

02/03/2026

When madness beckons with its siren call,
And chaos wears the mask of reasoned speech,

The wisest soul will not engage at all,
But step beyond what foolishness can reach.

To argue with the frenzied wastes your days,
And feeds the beast that thrives on your reply,

One cannot light a candle in the haze
Of minds determined never to ask why.

Your energy is gold, your time is rare,
No battle won is worth the cost of peace,

Withdraw your hand, release it to the air,
And let the storm of nonsense find its cease.

The greatest power lies in walking free.
Disengage from cray cray, and just be.

Love,
Papawitch

28/02/2026

January 3, January 18, February 1, February 17, February 20, February 28… Ain’t nobody tryna get you to “believe” anything… just notice.

Love
Papawitch

28/02/2026

Hey y’all, you know that moment when you walk into a room and every single person you have ever loved is already there waiting for you?
That is what the sky is doing tonight.

Seven planets. One sky. A rare and sacred alignment that carries the weight of the entire cosmos moving in divine harmony, and it is all yours for the taking.

This is the universe setting the table and pulling out your chair. Siéntese por favor

Get outside. Look up. Let the sky crack you open a little. Charge your crystals, set your intentions, pull your cards, sit in the dirt and just be under it.

However you commune with the cosmos, do it with everything you have tonight. This energy is bold. It is layered. It is the kind of thing that gets under your skin and stays there.

The universe traveled a long way to show you this. Show up for it.

May the light of every planet in this magnificent parade find you exactly where you are, fill you with healing, and remind you that you belong to something vast, ancient, and wildly beautiful.
With all my love and every single star in that sky!

Love,
Papawitch

28/02/2026

Long before I understood ritual, psychology, or the quiet power of words, there was a man who knelt down, looked you right in the eye through the screen, and told you something that no one else ever thought to say out loud every time he saw you:

“I like you just the way you are.”

For many of us, Fred Roger’s was the first adult outside of our families who made us feel that our existence alone was enough. Just you, exactly as you are, welcomed into the neighborhood every single day.

I grew up surrounded by love, and I know how rare and lucky that is. But even within that love, Mr. Rogers said something different, something specific and deliberate, that planted a seeds I didn’t even know were growing until decades later.

By the time I was an adult, I realized his teachings ran parallel to the wisdom of my own elders. He was woven into the good in my life.
He was my first guru. And I mean that with everything I have.

Even now, his voice still rises in my mind at perfect moments.

Fred Rogers helped shape the man I’ve become. He helped shape millions of us.

That matters.

Thank you, Fred. The world still feels your presence in every person who chooses kindness on purpose.

Love,
Papawitch

, , ,

27/02/2026

You’ve been sitting with release, discomfort, emptiness. Time to look at what’s actually changing.
Maybe you’re waiting for some big dramatic shift, a lightning bolt moment where everything feels different and you know the work has landed.

Transformation shows up small first. Always.
A moment where you noticed the old pattern and chose something else. A breath you took instead of a reaction you gave. A choice that felt tiny but was actually massive because you’ve never made it before.

Those moments count. They’re the proof the work is landing.

Look at what happened yesterday. This morning. An hour ago. Where did you choose differently? Where did your body respond with something new instead of the old reflex?
Write it down. Let even the small shifts matter. Especially the small shifts.

Today: Track three moments where you responded differently than you would have two weeks ago. Write them down. Let them be evidence that the ground beneath you is already shifting.

Small different compounds into entirely new.

Love,
Papawitch

27/02/2026

At some point, arguing with an idiot makes you the idiot. The question is just: how long did it take?

There’s a moment in every pointless conversation where you feel it. That shift. Where you realize the person across from you isn’t interested in truth, isn’t processing what you’re saying, and has zero intention of doing so. They’re committed. And all the patience, evidence, and clarity in the world won’t change that.

That’s the moment most people ignore. That’s where the real mistake happens.
Because the second you stay, the second you try one more time, explain it a different way, thinking “surely they’ll get it now”, you’ve handed over something you’ll never get back. Your time. Your energy. Your peace.

The idiot walks away from that conversation whole. You carry it.
Walking away is the only move that actually costs them something… your attention. And some people flat out don’t deserve it.

So… Who’s the bigger idiot - the idiot, or the person arguing with an idiot?

The idiot has an excuse. What’s yours?

Love,
Papawitch

26/02/2026

Something is building right now and you can feel it in your bones.
This week is not a normal week. Six planets are aligned in the sky this Saturday. Five days later, March 3rd, a blood moon eclipse. Back to back.

A cosmic one-two punch that doesn’t come around often and when it does, people feel it whether they understand it or not.

And people are feeling it.
Conversations that have been avoided for months are suddenly happening.
Decisions that have been postponed are forcing themselves to the surface.
Feelings that got buried somewhere back in the chaos of the last year are clawing their way back up because they need to be dealt with.

Right now the energy is electric and raw and a little overwhelming for a lot of people. Sleep is strange. Emotions are close to the surface. Some days feel like running full speed and standing completely still at the same time.
That’s you waking up.

This is one of those moments in time that asks something of you. A moment that says “enough drifting, enough numbing, enough waiting for the right time.”

The right time is here and it arrived loud.
Whatever you’ve been putting off; the healing, the decision, the honest conversation with yourself… this week is asking you to go there. The energy is available to support you in ways it hasn’t been in a long time.
Use it.

And if you want to channel all of this into something intentional that actually works with this energy instead of just surviving it, the Blood Moon ritual on March 3rd might be exactly what you need.
DM me for the details.

Love,
Papawitch

23/02/2026

There are moments when a bowl of soup stops being soup and becomes something else entirely. An argument. A confession. A small, steaming proof that the universe, despite all evidence to the contrary, occasionally gets things exactly right.

This bowl… this lovely bowl…has crab claws reaching upward like they’re still fighting, still wild, still refusing to accept their fate gracefully. Good. I respect that. The shrimp curled pink and perfect, the fried tofu pillows soaking up broth that has been simmering since before you had problems, rice noodles ghosting beneath the surface like silk pulled through dark water.

The broth is the thing. Lawdy.
It’s always the broth. Someone woke up before dawn for this. Someone’s grandmother’s hands are in this liquid; her knowledge, her fury, her love, all reduced down to something that smells like the sea and spice and a history you’ll never fully understand but can taste, briefly, on the edge of your tongue.

Ninh Binh…. Where?… Ninh Binh.

A neighborhood place. Locals who didn’t look up when you walked in because this is just Tuesday to them, just lunch, just life.

The lime waits. The chilies wait. But not for long.
The dark sauce in that metal cup holds secrets.

Squeeze. Pour. Eat.
Don’t talk. Don’t photograph it more than once. Just be here, in this, fully. The bowl is watching you back.

Love
Papawitch

Chokae'

06/03/2026

05/03/2026

05/03/2026

02/03/2026

28/02/2026

28/02/2026

28/02/2026

27/02/2026

27/02/2026

26/02/2026

23/02/2026

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